


A Good Son

by futuristicjazzhands



Series: Little!Jake [3]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Bed-Wetting, Daddy!Ray, F/M, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Nightmares, Non-Sexual Age Play, Papa!Kevin, Thumb-sucking, little!Jake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-05
Updated: 2018-04-05
Packaged: 2019-04-17 21:15:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,613
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14197830
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/futuristicjazzhands/pseuds/futuristicjazzhands
Summary: Amy doesn't know how to take care of kids. Jake avoids Holt. Holt just wants Jake to talk to him.





	A Good Son

**Author's Note:**

> Will I ever write anything but angst? Probably not.

Amy woke up in the middle of the night and wasn’t sure why for a second, her brain still trying to catch up. Then she noticed the uncomfortable sensation under the covers. She shifted and realized that the sheets were warm and wet. Trying not to think about how filthy urine is, she pushed the covers off of herself and, nudging her fiance, said, “Jake, babe, wake up.”

 

Jake only whimpered in response, squirming on his side of the bed. Amy immediately recognized that Jake’s scrunched up face meant he was having a nightmare. She watched sadly as he cried out weakly, a few tears slipping out from his closed eyes. As soon as he spoke, just a broken, “Please…” Amy shook him again, his pain unbearable.

 

He finally stirred when she said his name again, eyes fluttering open. Consciousness caught up with him quickly, hitting like a freight train. He bolted up with a strangled noise but calmed slightly when he saw Amy standing by his side, shrouded in dark but definitely the love of his life. Only a beat passed before he realized what he’d done.

 

“I’m sorry,” Jake said, pulling himself out of the soiled bed, “I’ll clean it up, promise.”

 

Amy frowned and hugged Jake, “You don’t have to apologize. It was only an accident. Are you okay? That looked like a pretty bad nightmare...”

 

Jake pulled away, and Amy wasn’t sure if it was because he was considerably more wet than she was and he didn’t want to get her anymore covered in his urine or if he was actually rebuffing her affection. Either way, Amy tried her best not to feel rejected. Still, she had to swallow her sadness. She reached over to turn on the lamp, and when light filled the room, she could finally see into his eyes. They were shiny, wet, and... young.

 

Oh, Amy thought, he was little. The wet bed made more sense. Jake never really talked much about what he did when he was little; he was too embarrassed to most of the time, and if Amy was being honest with herself, she didn’t really want to hear about it. She loved Jake with all her heart, but kids made her nervous. It was why Amy suddenly felt very out of her depth. She wasn’t completely incompetent with kids, but she was by no means good at caregiving. That was one of the biggest reasons Jake needed Holt; he could give little Jake the care Amy couldn’t.

 

Amy grabbed her phone from her nightstand and said, “I’ll call Captain Holt.”

 

“No!” Jake shouted, surprising the both of them. He shrunk back when he realized he had raised his voice and mumbled, “Sorry. Just… Please don’t call Daddy.”

 

“I think he’d be better at comforting you right now, Jake,” She replied.

 

“He’s sleeping, though. Don’t wanna wake him up.”

 

“I’m sure he wouldn’t mind. He cares a lot about you and would want to help you feel better if he knew you were upset.”

 

To Amy’s surprise, Jake burst into tears. His hands flew up to his face to cover his eyes as he sobbed, “Please, please, don’t call him, please!”

 

Flustered, Amy held out her arms, hoping to soothe him like one would soothe a startled animal, she shushed him before promising, “Okay, okay, I won’t call him. It’s okay. Please don’t cry. I won’t call.”

 

After a few minutes, Jake’s sobs dwindled down to sniffling and the occasional hiccup. He swiped at his wet cheeks, leaving them red like his eyes already were. He took a shaky breath before speaking again, “‘m sleepy. And itchy.”

 

Amy wasn’t going to panic. She had never taken care of a kid by herself, but she could get Jake cleaned up and back in bed. She could do that much. After a big, preparatory breath, she said, “Alright, sweetie, why don’t you go take a shower while I change the bed?”

 

Jake looked unsure though, biting his bottom lip and shifting from foot to foot like he didn’t know what to do with himself. He gazed down at his soaked pajamas and the tears came back suddenly. Before he had the chance to get too worked up again, Amy reluctantly said, “Or I could help you clean up? Do you want my help?”

 

“Please,” Jake insisted with a frantic nod.

 

“Can you wait for me in the bathroom for a minute?”

 

Jake hesitated.

 

Amy wanted to hug him, but remembering how he had pulled away before, she just rubbed his shoulder, “Just a minute, buddy. I’m going to strip the bed and then I’ll be right there.”

 

He didn’t look happy about it, but he walked to the bathroom. Amy quickly pulled off the blankets and sheets as well as her wet clothes, throwing them into a pile to be shoved into the washing machine later on. It bothered her to leave the dirty bedding just laying there, but she couldn’t keep Jake waiting too long, not while he was so fragile.

 

She headed to the bathroom and almost laughed when she saw Jake stuck in his shirt. His arms were tangled up in the sleeves, just a mess of curls sticking out of the collar. He whimpered and said, “Help please.”

 

“Are you okay?” Amy asked as she pulled his shirt off.

 

Jake blushed when he saw Amy in front of him, wearing absolutely nothing. He had seen her naked plenty of times but never while he was little. He looked down, trying to avoid staring at her breasts.

 

Amy prodded, “Jake?”

 

Jake didn’t reply, just shrugged. Amy thought about prompting him further, about getting some answers because nothing like this had ever happened before, but Jake shoved his thumb in his mouth. Amy took that as a signal that he wasn’t feeling particularly verbal. Still, the germs made her wince, so she asked, “Do Kevin and Holt let you suck your thumb?”

 

“Paci,” Jake slurred around his thumb.

 

“Do you have one here?”

 

Jake shook his head, eyes growing wet yet again. He used to have pacifiers of his own apart from the ones Kevin had gotten for him, but he hadn’t brought them when he moved in with Amy. He opened his mouth as if to speak again, but then he closed it back around his thumb and stared down at his feet.

 

“Okay,” Amy said, though she directed it more towards herself than to Jake. She turned the faucet on the shower, letting the water warm up.

 

“Bath,” Jake murmured, poking Amy’s hip to get her attention.

 

Amy faltered. She nervously explained, “A shower is more efficient. It’s quicker and we can do it together.”

 

Not in the mood to throw a tantrum or even just put up a fuss, Jake relented. He wanted a bath, but he mostly wanted to go back to sleep. He waited until Amy was already standing under the spray of water before joining her. It was only after Amy had finished washing herself that she noticed Jake was just standing there. Realizing she was going to have to clean him, she blushed. Jake and Amy had shared showers before, ranging from completely chaste to actual shower sex, but this somehow felt even more intimate than that.

 

Amy washed Jake thoroughly because even if she felt awkward, she wasn’t going to half-ass the job, especially when the “job” was her fiance. Once he was clean, she turned off the shower and stepped out. She draped a towel over Jake’s shoulder and let him stay like that while she dried and dressed herself. He waited patiently, still sucking on his thumb, and tried to stay awake even though he was painfully exhausted.

 

Once Amy was in clean pajamas, she helped Jake get completely dry and then into some clean pajamas. She hesitated for a moment after pulling his pajama pants up and asked, “Do you think… you’re going to have another accident?”

 

Jake shrugged again, and Amy was starting to get concerned. She knew Jake was still upset, but she never could’ve imagined Jake being so quiet. She ran her hand down her tired face before reaching for Jake’s hand.

 

“C’mon,” She said, tugging him to the bed, “Let’s try and get a little more sleep.”

 

Amy put a clean sheet on the bed as well as a quilt but didn’t bother making up the bed with all the trappings she usually did, more focused on getting into bed than making it look pretty. She fell into bed as soon as she could, eyes already half-lidded.

 

Jake snuggled up next to her and said, “I love you…”

 

“I love you too,” she slowly replied before falling completely asleep.

 

* * *

 

By the time Jake and Amy got to work that morning, Jake was big again, but Amy could tell that he was not quite himself. He seemed anxious, not like the energetic, bubbly, puppy-like man she knew so well.

 

As they stepped into the bullpen, Amy assumed he’d go into Holt’s office. He always spoke to the captain first thing in the morning, but to her surprise, he settled at his desk. He immediately got to work, not even looking up at the rest of the Nine-Nine trickled in, let alone greeting them.

 

Amy, perplexed, headed for Holt’s office. She knocked on the door but didn’t wait for an invitation to walk in, too worried to be bothered by politeness. Holt gazed up at her with an expression that, though it looked blank, Amy recognized as mild surprise, “Santiago. Can I help you?”

 

“It’s Jake,” Amy started, trying not to sound as frazzled as she felt.

 

Holt looked through the window over at Jake’s desk where the detective was hunched over his keyboard. He frowned and asked, “What is the problem?”

 

“I’m not exactly sure,” she said, “He had a nightmare last night and wet the bed.”

 

“You didn’t call me?”

 

“Jake cried when I suggested it,” Amy explained.

 

Holt sighed. He looked down at his watch and after a moment of deliberation, said, “I’ll talk with him after the morning briefing.”

 

Holt tried to, at least. The morning debriefing went about as usual (off track and vastly inefficient by Holt’s standards). Holt dismissed the detectives, but added, “Peralta, could you stay?”

 

Jake looked up him and there was something uneasy in his expression. He stayed in his seat, watching as everyone shuffled out of the room with their newly assigned cases. As soon as the room was empty, Jake nervously asked, “Everything okay, boss?”

 

“Are you alright, Jacob?” Holt asked.

 

Jake went pale at the sound of his first name, at the gentle way Holt said it. Clenching his fists underneath the table, he forced himself to smile and said, “Yeah, ‘course I am. Just, like, hella busy, y’know?” Not as smooth as he had hoped, but he had never been silver-tongued anyway.

 

Holt frowned, and Jake felt like the captain was staring straight into his soul. Almost too clumsily, he stood up from his seat, knocking the chair against the table behind him. As he grabbed his files and headed back to the bullpen, he babbled, “Everything’s great. I’m great. It’s all cool beans. Just gonna go do my work like a responsible adult. Okay. Good talk, see you later.”

 

Holt was left alone in the briefing room, confused and a little hurt that Jake would brush him off like that. Throughout the rest of the day, he tried to engage Jake, but he was thwarted at every chance. Despite Holt’s several attempts, he only got basically incoherent rambles and excuses from Jake.

 

He asked Jake to go to lunch with him. He even promised to take Jake anywhere he wanted (Lord help him, Jake’s taste in food was far too greasy), but Jake didn’t even let him finish the offer. The second Holt started to ask, Jake grabbed his jacket and practically ran to the elevator, saying, “Can’t. Gotta go talk to a witness. Big lead. Sorry!”

 

He later called Jake into his office to talk, but Jake dodged his questions for a few minutes before finally faking a phone call and bailing. Jake was the least forthcoming Holt had ever seen him. Jake loved to talk. He talked more than any other person Holt knew, and that included Boyle who could ramble on for hours about the most inane things. But now, Jake replied tersely to anything Holt said. It felt so foreign and Holt was getting more and more concerned with each interaction.  

 

Holt needed to bring out the big guns.

 

Jake was wrapping up his paperwork for the day, almost ready to go home, when Kevin walked through the bullpen. His eyes went wide and he tried to avoid Kevin’s gaze, curling into himself as if that could hide him. He flinched when Kevin laid his hand on Jake’s back, a warm and gentle touch.

 

Jake felt like crying.

 

“Jacob, why don’t we talk in Raymond’s office?” Kevin said, phrasing it like a suggestion but there was something about his tone that indicated it wasn’t really a suggestion.

 

“Do we have to? It’s almost time to go home,” Jake said, looking across his desk to Amy.

 

Amy smiled at him, “Go ahead, babe. I’ll wait.” Jake thought about being angry with her for helping to facilitate this ambush, but she had helped him so much last night. He knew it was kind of awful of him to thrust her into that intimate caregiving role without a discussion or even a warning. She deserved a free pass or two.

 

Desperate to escape the conversation he knew was coming, he said, “I gotta go to the bathroom.” Jake knew it was a lame excuse, and one Kevin would see straight through, but he had to make the attempt.

 

As Jake expected he would, Kevin replied smoothly, “You’re a big boy; you can hold it.”

 

With a resigned sigh, Jake stood and let Kevin lead him to Holt’s office, his hand staying on Jake’s back as if it were glued there.

 

Holt was sitting in his chair, looking contemplative. He gestured for Jake to sit down as Kevin shut the door and closed the blinds. Jake took his seat, but he was getting more and more nervous with each passing second.

 

Kevin spoke first, “Jacob, you need to tell us what has you upset.”

 

“Who said I’m upset?” Jake asked, quickly adding, “I’m not upset.”

 

“On the contrary. Amy told me what happened last night,” Ray said.

 

Jake pursed his lips, fighting every instinct he had to just let go and be little. He had never seemed so timid when he mumbled, “It wasn’t a big deal. I’m fine.”

 

“You have been avoiding me.” Ray looked hurt, and Jake felt something in his chest restrict, tight and suffocating and cold like his lungs were filled with ice. He hated that he was doing this to the people he loved. Why did he always ruin everything?

 

His eyes stung, hot tears building up despite his attempts to hold them back. He dug his nails into palms hard enough that he drew blood. Pain grounded him. But it wasn’t helping as much as he hoped; the tears were about to fall as he choked out, “I’m sorry.”

 

“Tell us what is wrong, darling,” Kevin implored, reaching out to touch Jake’s shoulder.

 

The sweetness of Kevin’s words, the gentle touch, the love he was expressing, the fact that Ray and Kevin cared so much… Jake didn’t deserve it. He buried his face in the crook of his arm, salty tears soaking into the fabric of his hoodie. “I don’t want… I’m gonna… I…” He couldn’t get the words out. How could explain his greatest fears to the two men he loved and respected more than anyone else?

 

Jake kept his face hidden when he heard shifting. When a hand grabbed his arm, pulling him to his feet, Jake let out a surprised squeak. Ray wrapped him in his arms and said, “Take your time, dear. Deep breaths..”

 

Ray held Jake for what seemed like forever before he finally started to calm down. Jake’s eyes were puffy and bloodshot when he pulled back from Ray. He took a slow, stuttering breath and, not looking Ray in the eye, asked, “Are you getting tired of me?”

 

Kevin and Ray shared a confused, sad look. How could their boy ask something like that? Ray grabbed a tissue from his desk and gently wiped Jake’s wet cheeks and runny nose as he inquired, “What makes you think we are tired of you?”

 

“My dad got tired of me. He never sticks around long. I just… I’m not a good enough son,” Jake shrugs. His attempt to look nonchalant fails as his voice wobbles.

 

“Jacob Peralta, you are an amazing son. You are thoughtful, intelligent, loving, and I’m proud to be a part of your life. You are more than good enough. Roger doesn’t deserve the title of father,” Ray said with confidence and a hint of righteous anger in his voice. When Jake turned his head, blushing, Ray took him by the chin and guided his face back so they locked eyes, “I will not abandon you like he did.”

 

Jake’s breath hitched. He squeezed his eyes shut and tried his best to force down the emotions swelling inside him. Just as he was beginning to think he wouldn’t start crying again, Kevin laid his hand on the nape of Jake’s neck and promised, “Neither of us will. We love you.”

 

A few minutes later, once Jake had calmed back down a bit, Kevin said, “I think you should spend the night with Daddy and me tonight.”

 

“I concur,” Ray said with a nod, “Jake?”

 

Jake hesitated a moment before agreeing, “‘Kay.”

 

After gathering his things and saying goodbye to Amy, Jake followed Kevin and Ray to the garage. Sitting in the backseat of the car, Jake had trouble keeping his eyes open. He rubbed them, which was not helping how itchy they were, and murmured, “Papa… Sleepy.”

 

Kevin turned in the passenger seat so he could look at Jake. The poor boy looked miserable, his face still red and irritated from all the tears, and Jake’s fussing wasn’t helping him any. Kevin patted his knee, “An early bedtime is in order.”

 

Though the idea of going to bed seemed heavenly, Jake still whined. He didn’t want an early bedtime like a baby, and he let Papa know, “No… Normal bedtime.”

 

“Jake,” Ray interjected, looking back at Jake through the rearview mirror, “You are clearly exhausted. I doubt you can even make it to your normal bedtime.”

 

"Can so."

 

"Jacob."

 

Jake let the issue go but kept sulking. When they finally got to Kevin and Ray’s house, Jake was not in a better mood. He pouted as Daddy and Papa started a yucky healthy dinner with vegetables and stuff. He whined, “I want mac’n’cheese.”

 

“Papa is making stir-fry. It’s one of your favorites,” Ray said.

 

“But I want mac’n’cheese, Daddy!”

 

Usually, Ray and Kevin didn’t tolerate Jake acting like a spoiled brat, but he’d had a long day. Neither of them wanted to put him in timeout when he was so physically and emotionally worn out. So instead, Ray offered, “If you eat the stir-fry without complaining, I will let you have two cookies for dessert.”

 

“Four cookies?”

 

“Two.”

 

"Three?"

 

"Two."

 

Jake huffed, “Fine, two.”

 

As agreed, Jake ate his dinner without any more protests, even when Ray made him use a sippy cup. The stir-fry was no macaroni and cheese, but it was warm and delicious, especially since Jake had skipped lunch in order to avoid Ray. He cleaned his plate, and when Ray gave him the cookies as agreed upon, he scarfed those down as well.

 

Now with his stomach full, Jake’s exhaustion took over. His eyes fluttered as he fought to stay awake. Sleepy and pliant, Jake didn’t put up any resistance as Ray led him upstairs. It was only seven o’clock, way earlier than even little Jake went to bed, but Jake was practically asleep already.

 

Ray had to maneuver Jake’s limbs in the right sleeves by himself as he dressed him in his pajamas. He knew Jake was either very young, utterly fatigued, or more likely both when he didn’t even make a comment at the pull-up Ray put him in. On any normal day, Jake would fight that tooth and nail.

 

Once Ray settled Jake in his bed, tucking the covers around him, Jake’s eyes were closed. His thumb had already made its way to Jake’s mouth, so Ray carefully replaced it with a clean pacifier. He leaned down to press a kiss to Jake’s forehead and whispered, “Goodnight, son.”

 

Just as he was about to flick the lights off, Jake stirred and mumbled, “Bedtime story, Daddy?”

 

“Which story would you like?” Ray asked, moving back to Jake’s bedside.

 

“Where the Wild Things Are?”

 

Ray retrieved the book and sat down next to Jake. He hadn’t even opened it up to the first page when Jake reached over and touched his arm. He said, “Daddy, promise you’ll finish it. Even if I fall asleep.”

 

“You know I would never leave a story unfinished,” Ray assured him. He started to read the story, using his best, most dramatic voices because he knew Jake loved the voices the most. Max hadn’t even been crowned king of the wild things when Jake fell asleep, but Ray, as promised, continued reading the story until the end.

 

When it came to Jake, Ray would see it all to the very end.  

  



End file.
